


Captivate

by delightful_fear



Series: Captivate [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Slow Burn, The Deathly Hallows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 05:07:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26966422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delightful_fear/pseuds/delightful_fear
Summary: What if things went a little differently when Harry, Ron and Hermione were captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, and Harry didn’t escape with the rest?Taken to a remote stronghold of the Malfoy's and guarded only by Draco, Harry needs to find a way to get out.How far will he go escape this desperate situation?
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Captivate [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021965
Comments: 12
Kudos: 132





	1. Chapter 1

The snatchers’ grips were strong as they were pushed up to the iron gate. Harry tried to keep his face neutral as a witch stepped into view on the other side. 

Bellatrix peered at him closely, her dark, beady eyes lingering on the swollen areas disfiguring his face. Harry almost felt a tinge of hope, but then the snatcher’s grubby hand pushed his hair back from his forehead to show his scar.

Bellatrix’s lips twisted into a smirk. “Get Draco,” she commanded, likely to a house elf or some other servant nearby. 

It was a blur after that, his heart pounding in fear as they were pushed and dragged into the cold, dark manor. He could here Hermione gasp in pain, likely from the man twisting her arm, and Ron pulled away from his captor instinctively to try to help her. But none of them could do anything but ineffectively squirm in their bonds. 

Holding him tight against her body, Bellatrix presented Harry like a prize before her nephew. “Well....?”

Through slitted eyes, Harry held his breath and tried to calm his breathing. Draco stood before him, looking over his face slowly with impassive grey eyes. His skin seemed even paler than usual. He was in the black suit he had worn on the Hogwarts train last year. 

This was it. The moment Draco could finally stop their... rivalry, if that’s what you would call it. A few words, and Draco could have payback for all the trouble Harry had gotten him into. Being turned into a ferret by Mad Eye Moody, besting him at Quidditch. The horrible spell in that bathroom fight that had almost killed him.

“I can’t be sure,” Draco said finally. 

Harry had to school his face from appearing shocked. Bellatrix was still holding him close, so he concentrated hard to keep his body loose. But inside he was confused. Why? Why?? Why was Draco lying? To his own family? It made no sense. 

Lucius clasped the back of Draco’s neck with a large paternal hand, looming over his shoulder to peer at his only offspring. “Draco, look closely, son,” he implored. “If we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven. All would be as it was, you understand?”

The head snatcher stepped forward, objecting to those comments. Claiming his credit for capturing Harry. 

Draco’s mother settled her husband down, and his aunt urged Draco to look at Harry again. “Don’t be shy sweetie,” she cajoled with a surprisingly soft voice. “Come over. Now, if this isn’t who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he’ll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure.”

“What is wrong with his face?” Draco said, staring at Harry far too closely. 

Harry’s heart continued to thump. He was sure he saw a flicker of recognition in Draco’s eyes when he had first seen Harry. Why all this prevarication? Was the stinging jinx Hermione had done so strong? He could hardly open one eye and most of his face felt stiff and puffy. 

Bellatrix and the others continued to bicker on, but Harry could only watch Draco. His worst enemy from school had him in the palm of his hand, and could crush him at any moment. 

Suddenly there was a flurry of motion. Harry realized that Bellatrix was attacking the snatchers for some reason. It was over in a flash, with her ordering Wormtail to put the boys in the cellar. 

“I want to have a little conversation with this one, girl to girl,” she barked, her hand latching on to Hermione’s arm. 

...

Harry shuddered at the screams and gasps of pain coming from upstairs. Ron looked a bit crazed. Despite this, they soon had the other people in the cellar apparated away with Dobby’s assistance. 

It felt much better to be taking action. It was a long shot, but they had to escape. Had to get Hermione away from that witch. Ron was more dominant than Harry had ever seen him before, grabbing Wormtail’s wand before Harry could, and disarming Bellatrix. 

Harry caught her wand, and they rounded together against Lucius and Narcissa. Dobby was right there, arguing against his former masters in a way that made Harry proud. In the skirmish, Harry saw Draco off to the side, and was able to pin him down, wrestling their wands from his grasp. 

They gathered around Dobby; Griphook, Hermione, Ron and Harry, ready to apparate far away. Bellatrix howled in fury, and threw her dagger. 

In that instant, Harry’s arm was yanked hard, away from Dobby’s touch, and he fell. His head cracked hard against the stone floor, and the world went black. 

...

Harry awoke, groggy, head pounding. With a shaking hand, he ran it over his face. His features were back to normal, the effects of the stinging jinx worn off.

His hand moved into his hair, probing at the swollen lump that was still tender under his light touch. It felt hot, pounding with its own separate heartbeat, pangs of agony splitting through his skull. 

“Sorry about that,” a voice said nearby. 

Harry swung his face around a little too fast, and grimaced in pain. Eventually he opened his eyes to peer through the gloom. 

There were iron bars, and beyond that a figure wearing a dark grey cloak, a thick hood pulled up over his head, shadowing his face. A pale hand pushed the hood back, revealing Draco. 

He held out a small bottle towards Harry. “It’s a potion. I think you might have a concussion from when I tackled you. Your head hit the floor pretty hard.” 

Closing his eyes, Harry tried to bring up his last memories. Malfoy Manor. The Snatchers. Fighting over the wands with Draco. 

His head was pounding hard enough he got over his instinctive mistrust of Draco and took the bottle. “Do I drink the whole thing at once?” he asked, already bracing himself for a foul tasting brew. 

“It has about three doses. It should last the rest of today. I can give you another bottle tomorrow if you need it.” 

Harry took a small sip. It was a bit like Pepper Up, but with a bitter undertone. It wasn’t too bad. Within a couple minutes, the pounding faded and he felt a little better. 

“You are giving me potions and saying you are sorry. Maybe you could just let me out of here if you feel so bad,” Harry said, with dry humour. 

Draco chuckled. He pushed a tray of food through the gap at the base of the door. Harry could sense a stasis charm over it, keeping things at the correct temperature. He felt a pang of hunger now that his head didn’t ache as much. 

He grabbed the mug and sipped. Strong tea, hot and sweet. It tasted wonderful. 

Draco backed off, soon disappearing into the darkness. Harry could hear him walking up stone stairs and a large heavy door slamming shut. 

With nothing else to do, Harry ate the rest of the meal. Spicy vegetable soup, roast chicken, potatoes, and even chocolate pudding for dessert. 

Pleasantly full, Harry laid back against his cot. It was a simple bed with a thin mattress, but at least it seemed clean and had a warm blanket. 

There were no windows in his cell, but there must have been a few nearby, letting in enough light for his eyes to take in his surroundings. The cell was about eight feet square, with a bed along one wall. There was a small sink and toilet in one corner. Harry cringed at the lack of privacy. It was cold but not that uncomfortable. 

The worst thing was the silence. No other people in this dungeon. 

This wasn’t Malfoy Manor. That cellar had not had dungeons like this. It seemed like a more ancient building, built of rough hewn stone. Maybe even a castle. 

Draco was here, but who else? The food had been good enough that Harry knew there must be at least some house elves. Preparing food for Draco as well, taking care of his needs. Were his parents or crazy aunt here too? Other Deatheaters? Why were they keeping him here? Why hadn’t they turned him over to Voldemort? 

These questions kept circling and circling around his mind, until he fell into another deep sleep.

...

-A/N: This is the first thing I’ve posted since the pandemic started, so I’m feeling a bit rusty! It feels good to be writing again.

-I think this will have about six chapters and be around 20K words. I will try to post at least once a week. 


	2. Chapter 2

There was a sliding sound, and Harry was instantly awake. It was Draco again, pushing a tray beneath his door. 

“Wait,” Harry said, almost too loudly. Had he sounded a bit desperate? 

He stood, and wobbled enough he had to brace a hand against the wall. 

“You aren’t that well yet, Potter. I left you another potion on the tray.”

Harry sighed. The pain had returned every few hours, waking him, and he had been glad to have the potion last night. 

“Did you have a question?” Draco said, his feet braced far apart, his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Where are we? Why did you bring me here?” Harry blurted out, the main questions on his mind all night. 

Letting out a huff, Draco picked up the empty tray from Harry’s supper. “As if I’d tell you.”

He spun on his heel, marching away with a stiff, proud posture that Harry was far too familiar with. It was how Draco always looked after they traded insults at Hogwarts. 

Sighing, Harry picked up his tray and took a pull of potion first, needing the relief. Then, he dig into the breakfast. 

After months of camping with Hermione and Ron, it was wonderful to have well prepared food. French toast, bacon, maple syrup and juicy oranges. It all vanished, almost by magic, and he was soon sipping his tea, hands wrapped tight around the warm mug. 

What could he do? Explore the cell to see if there was any way to escape? Loose bars or stone blocks? He doubted it, but he needed to know. Without his wand, he had few other options. 

Of course, Draco seemed to be bringing him his meals, likely three times a day. Could he work on Draco? Get him to let him go somehow? Lure him close and grab his wand? Were there keys for the door or was it unlocked with a spell? 

If he couldn’t physically attack Draco, could he convince him instead? Work on his good side? Did he have a good side? Was that why he hadn’t identified Harry to his family? 

...

The morning seemed to drag. After eating, Harry tried to nap but did not feel that sleepy. He explored the cell, feeling over the walls and the iron bars. It was solid and surprisingly clean. Had the house elves been down here before he arrived, cleaning it for Harry’s arrival?

Harry washed his hands after completing the search, and with a shrug, stripped down and washed as well as he could. There was no towel or facecloth, but he managed with the warm water, soap and his hands. He cringed pulling his dirty clothes on over his damp skin, but it was the best he could do. 

He paced the cell, thoughts coming faster now. What were Ron and Hermione doing now? Dobby and Luna? Had they notified the Order of the Phoenix? Were they trying to find him even now? Could they trace him? Would Dobby be able to help him escape here like at the Manor? Wards didn’t seem to work against house elves. The Malfoys had seemed so shocked by Dobby’s defiance that perhaps they hadn’t warded this castle against them? 

...

“This is intolerable!”

Draco screwed his lips together as he pushed the lunch tray under the door. “The food? I thought it was pretty good.” He picked up the breakfast tray, it’s dishes completely empty. He gave Harry a mocking look. 

“Are you just going to keep me down here? Alone, in the dark? It’s inhumane! It’s against the Geneva Convention!” Harry grabbed the full lunch tray and set it on his bed. He didn’t want Draco to have the chance to snatch it back. 

“Geneva Convention? What are you talking about?”

The question stopped Harry before he could continue in his rant. “Oh...um...”. He searched his memory. Where had he heard the term before? On deeper consideration, it was likely from overhearing it on a muggle TV news program at the Dursley’s. It had something to do with treating enemies correctly, didn’t it? 

Harry shook his head in frustration, and felt grateful at least it didn’t ache as badly today. “Aren’t there some wizarding laws about how to treat prisoners?”

Draco scoffed. “Did you pass your OWL for the History of Magic? Wizards and witches have been doing vile things to each other forever.”

That did ring a bell. “But surely I should be allowed outside for fresh air? Exercise?”

“Next you will be asking for a quidditch broom and Celestina Warbeck’s latest record. You are an enemy of the Dark Lord! Of my family!”

“Well, if I’m too much of a bother, you could just let me go,” Harry said, letting out a chuckle in spite of himself. Draco looked funny when he was angry.

“Yeah right. Dream on, Potter,” Draco said over his shoulder as he left. 

....

“Are you feeling better?”

Harry sat on the edge of the bed when he heard Draco return later with his supper. “Why? Are you giving me more potion?”

He didn’t think he would need it. He had gone longer between doses today. But he didn’t want to need it during the night and not have it. 

“Yes, just one more bottle. But I was wondering if you feel well enough to walk a little without falling over?”

Harry sat up straighter at the question. “Um, yes. I think I can manage.” He wanted to sound strong enough to do this, but not seem like a threat. 

“I thought over your... request,” Draco said with a wry tone. “I think it’s only fair to let you outside for a brief period each day. We need to keep you healthy, after all.”

Harry was immediately on his feet. This was more than he had hoped for. 

“Put your hands through the bars,” Draco ordered, his wand out.

Obeying the order was a bit irritating, but Harry kept his face neutral as he did it. 

With a quick wave and a mumbled spell, a rope wrapped snugly around his wrists, binding them. Only then did Draco unlock the door with another spell. 

Wand still drawn, Draco waved Harry out of the cell. Harry walked slowly. Here was a chance to look around, get his bearings, look for weaknesses. Get Draco comfortable with doing this, and Harry might find a way to get away. 

There were a few other cells, similar to Harry’s, and windows covered with iron bars in the passageway. The stairs were made of stone, and led to a thick, oak door with metal braces. It took another spell to open it.

Walking through the doorway, Harry felt overwhelmed with how bright it was, and almost stumbled. Draco caught his arm, steadying him, and guided him forward. Maybe he took it as a sign that Harry was weak. It was more that Harry had been in the darkness a few days, and his eyes took longer than normal to adjust to the light. 

He barely had a time to look around before Draco was taking him outside. It was even brighter, a bit cold. The sky was overcast with high pale clouds. The grounds were well kept, with a rolling grass lawn and tall, trimmed hedges. A few trees here and there, but no flowers. A bit stark. 

Draco tugged him to a bench, and Harry didn’t resist sitting down. Even walking this far had weakened him. But it still felt good to breathe the clean, crisp air, and to feel the weak sunlight on his face. He closed his eyes, tilting his face up to savour it. He took slow deep breaths, feeling some of the tension inside him unwinding. 

“This really means something to you,” Draco said softly, seated on the other end of the bench. 

Harry opened his eyes and glanced at Draco. “Um, yeah. I think it from being on the run so much this year. Most of the time, we have been outdoors. Out of sight.”

Draco’s eyebrows rose slightly. “So, you are kind of claustrophobic now? Is that why you were so insistent I let you come outside?”

“Well, that dungeon cell is surprisingly clean, but I think anyone would want to get out of it after a day or two,” Harry replied with a bit of a humourless chuckle. 

Shrugging a shoulder, Draco turned his face to look out to the high hedges that surrounded the grounds. “Like it or not, we are both stuck here for the time being.”

The words struck Harry, and he gazed at Draco’s profile, his thoughts whirling. “Where are we? Why am I here? Can’t you leave?”

“It’s an old family castle. Malfoys lived here before we built the Manor. It dates back to some of the fiercest wizarding wars and has incredible defences,” Draco drawled, with a proud tilt to his chin that he always got when talking about his pure blood family. “No one can come snatch you from here, not even house elves. Only Malfoys can get through the wards, or those they permit.”

Fuck. Harry’s hopes of a rescue went even lower.

“What happened at the Manor? It was such a blur,” Harry said, lifting a hand to rub over the tender spot on the back of his head. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had a little memory loss from the concussion. 

Draco scoffed. “As that traitorous house elf made his little speech to Bellatrix, we snuck around behind you. I tackled you right as the rest apparated,” he said with pride. “My father grabbed both of us and moved us here.”

“So Dobby couldn’t come back for me,” Harry said softly. 

“Once we determined you were just knocked out, we put you in the dungeon to rest. He left me here to guard you.”

It made sense. Lucius had the upper hand now. Harry Potter in a very secure place, ready to bring to Voldemort at the best possible time. He would use this to his advantage. 

“So your father could appear at anytime to take me to your Dark Lord? To be killed? Like a lamb to the slaughter?”

Draco’s face paled and he looked away. As much as he talked the big game, he did not take death lightly. Harry had witnessed how he had delayed killing the wandless Dumbledor, and finally Snape was the one to do it. 

“Draco, I know you have mixed feelings about this. It’s why you didn’t identify me to your family when I had the stinging jinx, right? You knew it would mean my death,” Harry implored. “We have been rivals at school, maybe even enemies to a point, but not that far. You don’t want me dead.”

“Shut up,” Draco said firmly.

“Let me go. Give me a fighting chance. Already it is one of the most powerful wizards in the world against me, a drop-out who is barely seventeen,” Harry continued. “Please, Draco.”

“Shut up!” Draco shouted, and jumped to his feet, wand pointing steadily at Harry. “Back to your cell, now!”

Harry got up, turning back to the castle with shoulders slumped. It was large and boxy, made of dark blocks of heavy stone, built as a fortress. Impenetrable. 

...

-A/N: Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

It was a long night, with his thoughts keeping him up instead of the pain. He was in some remote castle with strong defences, so he doubted the Order of the Phoenix members or Dobby would be able to either locate him or get him out. He was wandless, defenceless and alone. 

From what Draco had said, Harry was pretty sure Draco was alone too. No family members or other Deatheaters. Some house elves doing the chores, under his command. 

Harry couldn’t just sit here and wait to be taken to Voldemort. He had to escape, somehow. He had to find a way. He had to do it himself. 

...

After binding Harry’s wrists, Draco opened the door. Harry moved slowly, like he had no energy, down the hallway, up the stairs, and then outside. 

But as Draco turned to lock the door to the house, Harry broke away. He dashed across the lawn, right to the main gate. It was ten feet tall at least, made of wrought iron in elaborate swirls, and topped with sharp spires. He reached out with his bound hands, but before they came in contact with the metal, he felt a sharp buzz of pain. He instinctively lost his balance, falling on his ass, the breath knocked out of him. 

He scrambled to his feet, pure adrenaline helping him, and ran along the imposing hedge. It was thick and full of thorns. Despite this, he tried to push through it, only to be zapped back again and again. Undaunted, he kept trying, running along the hedge and trying again and again. Searching for the tiniest gap in the defences. Eventually, panting and exhausted, he dropped back on the bench. 

Draco was sitting on the other end, legs crossed, twirling his wand. Completely unconcerned. “Satisfied? I told you there was no way out.” He pointed the wand at Harry’s wrists, and the binding disappeared. “I don’t think you need that when you are outside.”

Harry wasn’t going to argue with that. It felt good to have his hands free. “Fuck. So there is really no way to get out of here?”

“Nope. No way in, no way out,” Draco sighed, sounding a bit like Dudley when he didn’t get his way. 

“So, you are stuck here too, just as bored as I am,” Harry chuckled dryly, liking that. Misery loves company. 

Draco scoffed. “Well, there are some amusements. Watching you just now running around like a headless chicken, for example.”

Harry glanced back at the castle. “Surely in that huge building there must be some things to help while away the time.”

“This is hardly our holiday getaway, Potter. Instead of a beach, we only have a small pond.”

“I must have missed that in my desperate attempt at escape,” Harry drawled back. Anything to keep Draco talking, to stay outside, and maybe get an way to escape. “Can you show me?”

With a bit of a shrug, Draco stood and ambled across the large lawn. Harry followed him, a bit surprised that he had tucked his wand away and seemed unconcerned about Harry attacking him. Was this trust, or did he just doubt Harry would even try?

Harry was a bit tired from running around so much, his head feeling a bit sore, and he hoped the headache wasn’t going to come back. Perhaps he had overdone it, mostly recovered from the concussion, but not at his full strength yet. 

The pond was in an area that sloped down gradually from the smooth lawn, and was surrounded by bushes and slim trees. Looking through the foliage, he could see the glint of water. As they stepped into the copse, he could see it was a fairly good size. The shadows from the surrounding greenery didn’t cover the whole smooth surface of the water, and the spring sunshine allowed him to see the jade green tint of the water. 

“Are there fish in there? Bloodsuckers?” Harry asked, a bit enchanted. The water looked inviting, and if it was a warmer day, he could see that it would be nice to wade in and splash around, float on his back. 

Draco scoffed. “Maybe some minnows. Tiny fish. Nothing worth trying to catch.” 

The idea of Draco sitting on a log with Lucius, both holding fishing poles, made Harry chuckle. He turned his face away when Draco gave him a sharp look, not wanting to explain it, and spotted a nice flat rock. Without thinking too much, he stepped forward and grabbed it out of the muddy border of the pond. 

“Going to throw that at me, Potter?” Draco sneered, standing straighter and pulling out his wand.

Harry scoffed. “Hardly. This is far too small to put a dent in that melon. But it’s perfect for this.” With that, he flicked his arm out towards the pond, and the rock skipped along the surface three times before disappearing into the water. “Hmmmm. Not too bad considering I haven’t done that for years.”

Draco looked puzzled. “Is this what muggles do since they can’t do fun things, like play Quidditch?” 

“Exactly. When you can’t do magic, you have to learn how to use what’s available to you. Skipping rocks is something most kids try to get good at. A totally useless skill,” Harry explained, ignoring the slightly snide tone from Draco as he searched for another rock. He found a few, and sent them out along the water. Most skipped at least once or twice. 

He was so busy in his activity, it was a bit of a surprise when there was a bit splash in the pond right before he was about to throw another stone. Glancing over at Draco, with muddy fingers and his cheeks slightly flushed with embarrassment, it wasn’t too hard to deduce who had thrown it. 

Trying not to chuckle, Harry passed him the rock he was about to throw. “A good first try. But you need to look for flat stones about the size of your palm, like this. Find a few, and then I’ll show you how to throw them.”

They both got busy finding the right rocks, a bit of competitive spark already forming. Pretty soon, they both had a small pile. Harry showed Draco how to stand at a slight angle to the pond, and do a sidearm pitch with a flick of the wrist at the end. Many rocks disappeared with a big splash with no skipping, but Draco clenched his jaw and threw rock after rock. He watched Harry throwing his, modifying his technique, getting better. 

Finally, one of Draco’s rocks skipped twice. “Yes!” Harry exclaimed, feeling a bit proud of his student’s success. 

Draco returned his smile easily, obviously pleased at his accomplishment. But within a second, he pulled back the emotions, his face neutral again. “Yes, well, thank you for the high level amusement, Potter. I think it is time to head back inside.” 

Harry threw a final rock over the pond, pleased when it skipped a few times, satisfying his competitive nature. “Fine. Let’s go.”

“Hold out your hands,” Draco said firmly, his wand out.

A bit surprised at the request, Harry obeyed, and felt the magical binding secure his wrists again. So Draco was OK with Harry being unbound outside, but not when moving through the castle? Why? What was he trying to keep Harry from doing? What was he afraid of?

They went back inside, Harry leading the way, and Draco behind him. He waved the wand at the door and it opened for them, magically locked, obviously. 

Harry walked slowly, feigning weakness again, trying to look around as unobtrusively as he could. Draco occasionally prodded him with his wand to keep him moving along. He headed down the stairs back to the dungeon, and felt a sudden wave of dizziness. His bound hands scrambled to steady himself against the wall, but it was Draco’s firm grip on his shoulder that stopped him from pitching down the stairs. Without a word, he moved to Harry’s side, an arm slung along his lower back, the stairway luckily wide enough to allow them to continue that way to the bottom. Draco released him and stepped away, his eyes watchful for signs Harry was still unsteady.

Gathering himself, Harry clenched his teeth and walked unassisted to the cell. It was slow, but he managed it. He sunk down on to the bed, holding back a sigh of relief. 

“I will bring down your dinner in about an hour,” Draco said softly before leaving. 

Harry was grateful that Draco had not commented on what had happened. Had just helped him as he needed it. Left Harry with as much pride as he could. 

...

-A/N: Thanks for reading. This is a slow burn.


	4. Chapter 4

Harry slept very soundly that night, not waking until Draco was shoving his breakfast tray below the door. He had taken the last of the headache potion, knowing he needed his rest. He needed to be stronger, be able to escape if he saw an opportunity. Draco had a fairly secure system going, but he couldn’t be on guard every second. And the more Harry could do to assist that the better. 

“Oh,” Harry said, his voice scratchy. He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and ran his hands over his sleep-mussed hair. Feeling a bit embarrassed that was Draco seeing him like this. Usually he woke up early enough to wash a little, and run his wet hands over his face, straightening his hair as much as he could. Draco froze, his eyes scanning over Harry, and he braced himself for a derisive comment.

‘Stand up,” Draco said, pulling out his wand. 

Surprised at the order, Harry slowly rose. It was best to go along with Draco as much as possible, saving his resistance for the things that really mattered. He was the prisoner here, and didn’t have many choices under his control. 

Draco mumbled a spell, and Harry felt a slight tingling over his skin, and his clothing rustled like it was caught in a breeze. By the time he lowered his wand, Harry’s clothes were clean and unwrinkled, and he felt cleaner than he had been able to manage with the soap and water.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, and picked up the breakfast tray. Had Draco done that before? Scorgified Harry clean when he had been unconscious when they first arrived? In the days after when he was sleeping heavily? The thought was strangely disturbing. 

Things felt a little awkward then between them. Draco standing there, not saying anything, Harry waiting….

Abruptly, Draco lurched out of his stillness, and spun on his heel without a word, and left.

Sighing, Harry ate his breakfast. Draco was at least being attentive, seeing that he needed his clothes cleaned. He was never late with the meals either, and the food was tasty. Harry was a prisoner. It could have just been bread and water. 

Was there kindness deep inside Draco? Despite being raised by Deatheaters? 

Harry thought back on their years together at Hogwarts, and the times he had seen Draco with his parents. They both saw him off on the Hogwarts Express, with hugs and fond looks. Draco often received generous care packages at breakfast by owl, sharing the treats with his friends. His father was always at the Quidditch games, his head at a proud tilt as he watched his son and the whole Slytherin team whiz around the field on the brooms he had bought. Draco worked hard on the Quidditch pitch, and in his classes, top of the class. Except for Hermione, of course. A fact they all loved. 

Without the attack from Voldemort when he was a baby, would his parents have been like that? Would he have been the only child, pampered by his loving parents? Would they have proudly seen him off on the train, and come to his matches? 

Harry felt a pang of pain, feeling sad for the childhood he never had. It wasn’t his parents’ fault they had been murdered. His childhood hadn’t been ideal, but maybe it had been for the best, in a strange way. He hadn’t known anything about Voldemort, or his notoriety in the Wizarding World. He probably would have been just as full of himself as Draco was, if he had grown up with everyone praising him for doing something he couldn’t even remember. 

...

“What was your childhood like?”

“What?” Draco asked, jarred out of reading his book. It was a sunny day, and they were sitting on the bench, enjoying the gentle sunshine. 

It was warm enough that his pale skin was getting a bit rosy, either from the warmth or a light sunburn. It was a nice contrast against his light grey eyes and the silver white tone of his hair. The sunlight caught the faint stubble along his jawline, the fair colour of it making it invisible most of the time. 

Harry gave a light chuckle. “I was raised as a muggle. I was just wondering what my childhood would have been like if my parents hadn’t…” he trailed off, stopping himself from mentioning the name Voldemort. 

“Just an ordinary childhood,” Draco said dismissively, and went back to his book. The title mentioned Merlin, and Harry assumed it was historical fiction about that infamous wizard’s adventures.

“Come on. I’m curious. Hermione was raised as a muggle too, and Ron… well, you know things weren’t typical at his house…”

Draco sighed, closing his book. “So, you want to know what wizard families with money are like? Kids go to school, the parents work, same as you.”

“Yes, and you have house elves doing all the housework with magic,” Harry said. He had basically been the Dursley’s house elf, cooking and cleaning as his aunt had ordered, living in a tiny space instead of a proper bedroom, wearing cast off clothes. “We didn’t have that.”

Draco shrugged a shoulder. 

“Come on,” Harry cajoled. “We are both stuck here and there’s not much to do. Tell me, what did you do for fun? With your friends?”

“Most kids have magical toys, things they can play with in a safe way. Small brooms that only float a few inches off the ground and go slowly, dolls that say simple words when you talk to them, pretend wands that send out small sparks when you wave them around.” 

Harry grinned at the idea of a wizarding daycare, full of toddlers playing with toys like that. “And when you got older? Like 8 or 9 years old? Did you play sports or games with your friends?”

“Watched Quidditch games with the family, played it ourselves with starter brooms, read books, nights out to see concerts or plays,” Draco supplied, not sounded too interested in the topic. “What do muggle kids do?”

Harry chose to ignore the slightly derisive tone that he heard whenever Draco said the word ‘muggle’. “Um,” he said, thinking back to what Dudley and the other kids in the neighbourhood and school had done. He hadn’t had friends, had mostly stuck to himself. “Ride bikes, visit the playground, play football, watch TV and movies, play with computers…”

That seemed to catch Draco’s attention, his head tilted slightly to the side as he looked back at Harry. “I don’t know half of those words,’ he admitted.

It was a first step, and Harry happily launched into explaining each thing, with Draco asking lots of questions. It was clear Draco had never taken Muggle Studies at Hogwarts, as Harry found he had to explain things like electricity. It wasn’t easy. 

Eventually he gave up. “Never mind. I never had much of that stuff anyways. I had no toys of my own.”

He immediately regretted letting that comment slip out, as he saw the shock on Draco’s face. “What? No toys?” The concept was completely foreign to him. 

Harry sighed, looking upward. “Look, I got dumped to live with my aunt and uncle and they weren’t to happy to have me there, OK? Whenever I could, I spent time away from the house.”

Draco nodded slowly, trying to understand. “Oh, to hang out with your friends.”

“No,” Harry snapped, and had to calm down a surge of emotions from the memories. “My cousin was a bully, so other kids stayed away from me. Didn’t want to make him mad.”

Harry thought of those years, trying to be invisible around his relatives. If Aunt Petunia saw him, she gave him a task to do around the house. If Dudley saw him, he would be teased or thumped on the head. He hid in the garden under bushes, letting his imagination go as he watched the clouds. Or escaped to hang out in parks. 

“No friends, no toys. What did you do?”

What had he done? Harry hadn’t thought about those years for a long time. He hadn’t known anything different until he went to Hogwarts. How much had he missed out on in his childhood? 

Suddenly realizing how long he had been lost in his thoughts, Harry scrambled to think of a reply. “Um, I was outside as much as possible. I learned how to avoid my cousin, to avoid being noticed. I would watch other kids playing, exploring, watching nature-“

“Fuck, that sounds boring,” Draco’s voice broke through his rambling answer, and Harry’s eyes snapped to his in surprise. There was a bit of a teasing glint in them that made Harry relax again. 

“Yeah, I guess it was,” Harry chuckled lightly, and ran a hand through his hair. Why was he saying so much? Just pure boredom?

Draco shrugged. “There were times I wished I could have been left alone like that. My parents were always watching me, training me how to behave, sending me to lessons.”

“Run off and skip some rocks?” Harry joked, liking that Draco was telling him some private stuff too. 

“Yeah, I’m so good at that,” Draco said, with a bit of a grin. 

Harry stood up. “You just need some more practice. Come on, I’m tired of sitting around.”

Surprisingly, Draco seemed to agree as he followed Harry as he strolled over to the pond. They searched for rocks and worked on their technique. Harry gave Draco occasional tips but mostly left him to figure it out on his own. Pretty soon, he was skipping them pretty well. Damn git.

“Next time, we will have to make it a contest,” Harry said, rubbing his hands together to get some of the mud off them. 

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Draco said pulling out his wand. “Hold them out and I’ll clean them.”

Harry splayed them out, and felt the slight tingle of Draco’s spell dance over his skin. His breath caught, and he closed his eyes for a second. When he opened them, Draco was waving his wand over himself, cleaning off his own hands and some mud splatters on his clothes with a tsk.

They headed inside eventually, and Harry was feeling even more confident in his plan. He had made some good progress today, getting Draco relaxed enough to talk fairly freely. Draco was bored enough to let Harry entertain him, with talking or whatever else he could find to do in this remote location. The more time they spent together, the more relaxed Draco would become. It would only take a second to grab his wand and escape. Harry doubted the grounds were warded to prevent people leaving, just from entering. 

Draco was getting so comfortable around Harry he almost forgot to bind Harry’s wrists before entering the castle. Harry held his breath as Draco opened the door, ready to follow him in. Draco stopped so suddenly Harry almost ran into his back. 

”Woah,” Draco said, turning quickly, his arms out for his own balance. But his stance was tense, his eyes wary, and he checked Harry quickly. 

Looking for signs of imminent attack, Harry thought, and sighed to himself. He held his hands out, just wanting to give Draco no fodder for his suspicion. Not wanting to reverse the trust he had been building.

Draco bound his wrists and prodded Harry along, his lips pressed tight together. Harry simply walked down the steps and into the cell, feeling a bit sad as Draco locked him in for the night without saying another word. 

...

-A/N: Slowly building some trust.... 

-I have finished the drafts of the rest of the chapters. There are eight chapters total, around 16K words.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry felt bored and restless by the time Draco finally unlocked his cell door, and guided him upstairs with his hands bound. How many days had he been here? It was getting hard to remember....

Draco seemed to being feeling it too, and when they went outside, he quickly got rid of Harry’s bonds and stepped back into the castle for a brief minute. He returned with a basket that he set down on a sunny patch of grass.

“It’s too nice a day to stay inside,” Draco said quickly, not quite meeting Harry’s eyes. He took out a blanket and started spreading it out, and Harry got over his shock to help him.

The basket seemed to contain far too much food. Draco pulled out all sorts of tasty items, and handed Harry a plate. He seemed amused when Harry piled it high.

It reminded Harry of the bounty of foods at Hogwarts feasts, and he felt a pang of longing for those younger, simpler days. When the only thing he had to worry about Draco was if he’d beat him to the snitch in the next quidditch game.

He watched as Draco dug heartily into his own plate of food. It was nice to eat with someone, and he wondered if Draco felt it too. He’d been stuck in this castle just as long.

So many normal things disrupted this year. Draco hadn’t returned for his seventh year at Hogwarts either, after his involvement in Dumbledor’s death. Harry had heard rumours that Voldemort had been staying at the manor quite a bit, but he obviously hadn’t been there when Harry had been brought there. How much had Draco been around him? Eaten meals with him and other Deatheaters? Harry shuddered at the thought.

“There’s treacle tart,” Draco said, breaking through Harry’s musings.

Harry was surprised. His favourite. Did Draco know and bring it on this picnic on purpose.

Draco scoffed, passing the dish to Harry. “We went to the same school for six years, Potter. You think I could avoid noticing the way you stuffed your face every time it was served?”

Even though he was pretty full, Harry couldn’t resist taking a generous helping. He sighed with the first bite. “This brings back memories of those days.”

Nodding, Draco finished up his portion. “Hopefully not all bad?”

“It had its moments,” Harry agreed, and laid down on the blanket. “Oh, I’m so full. Is this part of your evil plan, making me almost sick on good food that I’m too lethargic to move?”

Chuckling, Draco put the leftovers and dirty dishes back in the basket, and stretched out beside Harry. “Exactly. It’s exhausting having to guard you all the time. I’ll take any advantage I can get.”

Harry scoffed at that. “You have a wand, I don’t. Hardly a fair battle.”

“Actually, it’s in the castle. That way I don’t have to worry about you grabbing it off me like you did at the manor.”

So that is what Draco was doing besides picking up the basket. About half his plans went up in smoke. “That makes it a lot more fair, actually. I can probably win if we fought.”

Draco opened a light blue eye lazily, peering at Harry. “Yeah, but what then? You can’t leave without a wand. Only I can get past the house wards to open the door.”

Anger and frustration bloomed inside Harry. Obviously Draco had been making his own plans, and predicted what Harry may try.

Next time he glanced over, Draco was napping. Obviously thinking Harry was no treat at all.

Harry sighed and stared up at the clouds. Anger burned hot for a few minutes, then faded. The warm sun and full belly were very soporific, and he drifted off as well.

...

He awoke, feeling warm and lazy. The sun was bright but not strong enough to burn. It was only March, and sunny days were rare in England this time of year.

Rolling on his back, Harry stared up at the clouds. It was relaxing, in a way, being in this quiet place, not having to move from place to place every few days.

He glanced over at Draco. He was lying on his side, hands tucked under his cheek, still napping. He looked younger like this, and it was a reminder that they were both just barely adults. Draco was a few inches taller than Harry now, slim and athletic in his build. His face had slimmed down, showing his cheekbones a bit more, and his jaw a little less pointy. He was looking more and more like Lucius by the day.

Lucius, who could appear at any moment and grab Harry. Apparate him to throw him down at Voldemort’s feet. Harry could just imagine the proud tilt of his head, delivering such a prize to his Dark Lord. It would put him back in his good graces, back into his top lieutenant role. Voldemort’s right hand man. Malfoy honour restored in a single act, just like he’d said at the Manor to Draco.

Somehow, being in this remote spot, away from everything, Harry had let that fact slip away. It was back now, a burning feeling of dread running through him. What could he do? How could he escape?

Could he grab a rock or a stick and hit Draco hard on the head? Leave him unconscious and get away? He didn’t relish the thought of hurting him, of hurting anyone, but his life was at stake. So much was at stake. Voldemort was gathering more power by the day, and without Dumbledor, could the Order of the Phoenix fight him? Defeat him? Was the prophesy correct? Could only Harry defeat him?

If Harry had to face Voldemort, he wanted it to be at least a fair fight. With friends and allies nearby, supporting him. With a good wand in his hand. All this year, Harry had been mentally preparing himself for that face off. Knew there was a good chance he could die.

His eyes landed in Draco again. His enemy, no matter that he was being relatively kind, bringing Harry his meals, letting him be outside like this. He wouldn’t stop his father when he arrived, wouldn’t stand in the way when he came for Harry. Just like he hadn’t stopped Snape from killing Dumbledor. Maybe he wasn’t evil enough to kill the headmaster himself, but he had facilitated it. Let Deatheaters into Hogwarts. Students and Order of the Phoenix members had been attacked.

Harry could not kill easily either. He always tried to disarm or stun his opponents, usually able to defeat them or escape. But this was war, and the stakes were extremely high. He was an adult now, and the other side hadn’t been pulling its punches. That massive snake had almost killed him at Christmas, at Godric's Hollow.

If he knocked Draco out, there was no way for Harry to escape. He couldn’t enter the house, that it was warded to only let Malfoy’s to enter, and the others that they allowed. Could he tie Draco up, and force him to enter the castle? Force him to tell him where the wands were?

Harry played out scenarios in his head, and nothing seemed feasible. Draco had the upper hand, and would get to his wand before Harry could. Plus, he had the house elves, however many, at his command as well.

He closed his eyes, feeling exhausted even though he had hardly done anything physical today. A wave of hopelessness washed over him, almost like he was still wearing that foul locket, the horcrux.

“Wake up, lazy bones,” a soft voice near him cajoled. Harry opened his eyes to find that Draco was awake now, leaning on one elbow as he peered down at Harry.

It was a jolt, seeing the contrast in his own dark, sad emotions to the sleepy, soft expression in Draco’s light blue-grey eyes. He seemed relaxed and unguarded.

These past few days had shown Harry other sides to Draco. He had not been sneering, no sharp barbs. They had actually had conversations and even laughed together a few times. Skipped rocks together, for fuck’s sake. Was he starting to see Harry as a friend? After all these months of being around Voldemort and the Deatheaters, was he enjoying being away from all that? With someone his own age, even if it was his old school rival?

“Um,” Harry finally said, feeling confused at all his thoughts and emotions today. “do I have to? Do we have big things in the agenda today?” He attempted an easy smile. It came out a bit stiff.

“Well, it depends a bit on you, Potter. I can lock you up in your cell right away, since you’ve had time outdoors as you so eloquently demanded.”

“Or...?” Harry asked, unimpressed with that option. It was only mid afternoon, and he didn’t relish the thought of being stuck back in the dark cell.

Draco shrugged. “Or you come up with some way to amuse me. Maybe run into the wards again.” He chuckled, his eyes warming at the memory.

A strand of his white blond hair fell forward, almost into his eyes, and the spring sunlight made it almost glow against his pale skin. His skin had a bit more colour in it from these past few days, from sitting outside together here, than he’d had back at the Manor.

Harry felt the urge to reach out and push that hair back. To feel it’s silky smooth texture, so different from his own. What would Draco do if he did that? Would his eyes warm even more? Heat up?

The shocking thoughts jarred Harry, and he sat up using a rush, wrapping his arms tightly around his bent knees. “Yes, yes, I can think of something...um...”

He looked around, a bit frantically, his head buzzing. It took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. Trees, hedge, grass...

Feeling a bit foolish, Harry picked out a long, thick blade of grass. “Um, pick one like this,” he said softly, showing it to Draco.

Draco raised an eyebrow slightly, but was curious enough to go along with the request.

“Lay it flat along the side of your thumb, and then press your other thumb along the other side,” Harry explained as he slowly demonstrated. He cupped his hands together, keeping lots of space between his palms, and raised them to his mouth. He blew steadily into the tiny space between his thumbs, wiggling his hands to make small adjustments, until suddenly a screechy whistle noise pierced the air.

It made Draco jump in surprise, and he dropped his blade of grass. Harry chuckled, then pressed his lips to his hand again to make the noise again. Moving his hands, he could vary the pitch a little, and played around as he watched Draco try to copy his example.

“I think you need to pick a thicker, rougher blade of grass,” Harry said, splaying his hands out to show Draco the one he’d been using. It reminded Harry a bit of his DA days, training other students, and he could see the glint of determination in Draco’s demeanour as he bent his head to the task.

Just like with skipping rocks, Draco wasn’t satisfied until he was making equally annoying sounds himself. His eyes glinted in amusement when Harry cringed at a particularly loud screech.

That warm look made Harry smile back, chuckling. He jumped up. “Enough of that. How about a game of tag? You are ‘it’. Catch me if you can.” He tapped Draco’s shoulder once. 

He took in Draco’s surprised expression before he turned and sprinted across the wide lawn. But in only a few seconds, Draco was on his feet and narrowing the distance between them.

Harry poured on a burst of speed, turning the corner to run down the other side of the castle. It was childish, running around on a lawn, playing tag, but it felt so good. His heart was pounding, his feet moving fast on the ground, breathing hard. Feeling more alive than he had for days.

Unfortunately, Draco was taller than Harry, with longer legs, and he was gaining on him.

Harry played with him, slowly slightly like he was getting tired, letting Draco think he was about to catch him, and then turning sharply with a burst of speed. It reminded Harry a bit of his manoeuvres on the Quidditch pitch. He had been quicker there too.

Draco was just as competitive though, and leaped at Harry, arms spread wide, tackling him from behind. They both landed hard, the thick grass the only thing that prevented bones from breaking. It still knocked the breath out of both of them, and left them a bit stunned.

It took Harry a second, feeling Draco’s arms tight around his chest and his warm breath against his neck, panting hard. Their legs seemed tangled together, and it suddenly struck Harry how intimate the position was. They had crashed together during matches, but had never been like this.

“OK, OK, you got me. You can let go now,” Harry said, pulling at Draco’s arm across his chest. He only breathed easier when Draco rolled away, lying panting on his back. “Um, normally it would be my turn to try to catch you now, but I’m feeling a bit tired. Can we go inside instead?”

Draco seemed to agree, as he stood as walked with Harry back to the door. He slipped inside, returning quickly with his wand, and binding Harry’s wrists before allowing him to cross the threshold. They did the now familiar actions without meeting each other’s eyes, and when they went down the stairs, Draco kept his distance. 

It was almost a relief to have the cell door swing closed behind him, and to feel the tingle of Draco’s magic across his skin when the wrist bindings disappeared. Harry went to his bed, lying on his side turned away from Draco, and only heard him walking away. Leaving him alone. 

Had Draco felt it too? Felt that zing of awareness when they had been in such close contact just then? Felt the pull when they had been talking and goofing around on the blanket? Draco had laid out a picnic for them to share, after all. 

Was there something there, or was it simply teenage hormones? Being the only people around each other? 

Feeling a bit ashamed, Harry kicked off his shoes and pulled the blanket over him. He undid his jeans, pushing his underwear aside, and closed his eyes. He let his mind drift as he started stroking. He had to stop only seconds later, swearing to himself at the lack of his wand. No way to cast a mufliato charm or anything else for privacy, like he had learned in his early years at Hogwarts, sharing a dorm room with other horny teens. No way to produce lube. He resorted to spitting in his hand, the replacement not as good but allowing him to continue. 

It didn’t take long. It had probably been a week, maybe longer, since he had taken some alone time from Ron and Hermione. He would find a quiet place in some bushes, cast privacy wards, and take care of himself. A bit of pleasure, some stress relief. 

He grimaced as he stood, zipping up his jeans with one hand, and went to the sink to wash his other hand clean. Another reason to miss his wand. It made clean up afterwards quickly and easier. 

Laying back in the bed, Harry went under the blanket again. Was Draco doing the same thing? Whacking off? What was he thinking about? Who? Was there someone in Slytherin he liked? He couldn’t recall Draco with any particular girl at Hogwarts. Or was there a certain guy? 

Harry mentally flipped through the possibilities. Draco was around Pansy Parkinson a lot, but Harry thought she was more interested in Draco that he was in her. Blaise Zambini? Was he gay? Was Draco? 

This could be something. Draco already seemed to be letting down his guard around Harry, acting more like friends. What if Harry tried for more? Could he get Draco’s trust? Get him to care for Harry? Convince him to let him go, or just get him to relax enough inside the castle so Harry could grab a wand? 

Was he actually going to do this? Try to seduce Draco Malfoy? He was a virgin, and there was a very good chance Draco was too. Would it actually have to be full sex? More than once? How far was Harry willing to go? 

What was the alternative? At any moment, Lucius could take him to Voldemort, and this slim opportunity would be gone. All was fair in love and war, right?

...

-Grass Whistle: Step by step method for this very essential skill [here.](https://youtu.be/qc9Zc2g9D94)


	6. Chapter 6

“I hope you eat more of this than you did your supper,” Draco said softly, sliding the breakfast tray beneath the door. 

Harry rolled over on the bed, his eyes heavy from lack of sleep, and was grateful for the dim light of the cell. Draco looked normal, picking up Harry’s barely touched tray from the previous night. When Harry didn’t reply, he gave a frustrated huff and left, leaving him in peace. 

Wrapping his hands around the warm mug of tea, Harry sipped it as he watched Draco go. Could he really do this? This half-formed plan?

He had lost most of his appetite, just contemplating it, and only ate some toast this morning. All night, strange, disturbing dreams had awoken him, his heart thumping and an overwhelming feeling of dread. This felt so wrong, in his heart, his gut. But in his head, his cool, rationale head, he knew it was the only way. 

In the end, he could get away, save himself, help others. Hopefully kill Voldemort. Draco’s feelings may be hurt, his pride stung, but those were things he would recover from. There was no doubt he had to do this. 

Could he do this? Be convincing? Get Draco to go along with it? 

Scenario after scenario had played in Harry’s head until he fell into an exhausted sleep, only to have them interrupt his dreams. 

Taking a deep breath, Harry sat up and methodically ate his whole breakfast. He would need his energy to escape, whenever he got his chance. He had to commit to this plan and just do it, no matter how distasteful. This was war. He was a soldier in it. 

He stripped and washed, dunking his head under the tap, grateful the water was warm, at least. He used his hands to sluice the water off his skin and hair, and slipped his clothes back on. 

By the time Draco came down with his lunch tray, Harry’s hair was mostly dry. “What, no picnic today?” He tried to go for a friendly tone. 

Draco saw the other tray was empty, and met Harry’s eyes. “Oh, are you feeling better now? I was wondering if you were getting sick. I have some Pepper Up potion, if you want.”

Harry gave him a small smile in return. “Um, that was nice of you, but I think I’m OK. I’d like to eat outside, if that’s alright. Get some fresh air.”

That got him a long look, Draco wondering if Harry meant it. Evidently his act was good enough. “Put your hands through the bars.”

“Is this really necessary? You have a wand, after all,” Harry grumbled lightly, but followed the orders. As Draco said the words of the spell and waved his wand, Harry felt his magic on his skin, sending a tingle up his arms. “Or maybe you just have a thing for tying me up?”

That had Draco’s eyes zipping to Harry’s, who made sure his expression was one of teasing. Maybe even a bit flirtatious. At least that’s what he was going for. It probably looked like he had indigestion, for all he knew about this. 

“More comments like that, and I’ll gag you too,” Draco said, unlocking the door and waving Harry through. 

“Mmmm kinky,” Harry said softly as he passed Draco. He heard him gasp, so he knew he had heard it. Or maybe he had, but it had been too soft for Draco to be sure what he said. That was what Harry had wanted. 

They got to the top of the stairs, and Draco said _‘Accio_ trays,” with a flick of his wand. Both the empty and full trays were soon nearby, and Draco passed Harry the lunch tray. He put the empty one on a table, for a house elf to collect later, presumably. 

“Sheesh, Potter, you have grass stains all over your jeans,” Draco sneered in slight disgust. 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for not packing a suitcase before you kidnapped me.” He immediately has reverted to snapping a reply, like when they had exchanged insults at Hogwarts. 

It just made Draco chuckle though. “Hold still,” he said, doing the scorgify spell. 

Closing his eyes, Harry felt the tingle of magic along his skin, from his hair down to his toes, his clothing rustling like it was in an invisible breeze. His breath caught at the sensation. 

Opening the door, Draco sent Harry outside once his bonds were off, and closed the door. When he came out with his own tray of food, Harry was already sitting below a tree. It was flowering, pink petals occasionally drifting down to scatter in the grass below. 

“So, what are we going to do today after lunch? Make mud pies?” Draco joked, picking up his sandwich and taking a large bite. 

Harry scoffed. “That would devolve pretty quickly, I think, into a mud fight,” he said, taking a bite a raw carrot. “Um, how about making thing out of paper? Like paper airplanes?”

It turned out, Draco didn’t know much about airplanes. He had taken their lunch trays inside and brought out some paper, and they had been working at folding them for at least half an hour. 

“Surely you have noticed them flying above you?” Harry asked, a bit bewildered. He had already made five planes that successfully flew, although not very far. All of Draco’s had crashed like they were under a jinx.

“Yes, of course,” Draco snapped back, looking down his nose at Harry. “But you don’t exactly see them up close like that.”

In the end, Draco wasn’t very good at making paper airplanes because he didn’t understand them. Harry could tell he was frustrated, which was the last thing he wanted. “Um, how about we make paper boats instead? We can even try floating them on the pond afterwards.”

This was much better, and they made several variations before heading to the pond. By then, the sun had come out and it was a very warm spring day. Launching their boats, most stayed upright and didn’t sink. They tried to get them to move, waving their hands or the unfolded paper sheets to create some breeze. 

Like with everything else, Draco was competitive, kneeling and hanging on to a bush at the edge of the water in order to extend close to his boats, blowing on their fragile paper sails enthusiastically. 

The ridiculous sight made Harry laugh so hard his boats were falling behind. Seeing this, Draco turned his head to flash Harry a triumphant smile. Unfortunately, that made him slip a little and he fell with a big splash, head first into the pond. 

Harry was howling as Draco floundered about in the shallow water, finding his feet and standing. He was completely drenched, his fair hair plastered to his head, struggling to spit out any pond water he had taken in. The only thing that shut Harry up was cold water hitting him on the face and chest. 

Draco kept splashing him, bending his legs to scoop up big waves of water with his hands and sending them Harry’s way. Not all the water reached him, but water was everywhere and Harry slipped where he was standing, landing on his ass in the mud at the edge of the pond. 

Draco was laughing hard now, until Harry retaliated with flinging handfuls of mud. His aim was very good. It kept escalating until they were both soaked, mud-smeared and breathless. 

“Sheesh,” Harry groaned, pulling a blob of mud out of his hair. Shaking his head, he just stood up and walked deeper into the pond. When he was waist deep, he took a deep breath and dunked below the water, scrubbing the mud off his hair, face and clothes. 

“Fuck, this is cold,” Draco complained, as he walked to stand by Harry, dunking to clean up as well. 

Pulling off his glasses, Harry dipped them in the water to get the mud off, gave them a shake and put them back on. Draco just stood up in the water, his wet clothes clinging to his body, raising his hands to sluice the water out of his hair, pushing it back off his face. 

Without even knowing what he was doing, Harry took a step closer. Draco opened his eyes, a flash of confusion in them at seeing him standing so close. But then they flicked downwards, to Harry’s mouth, and he took it as an invitation.

Leaning in, their noses bumped and Harry turned his face a bit. Their lips connected, and his hand went into Draco’s wet hair, holding him there as the kiss deepened. Harry liked feeling his magic on his skin, but Draco’s lips were even more intense. He just wanted more, more. 

Eventually he pulled back, breathing like he had run a mile. Draco stared back at him, dazed, confused, lips a bit swollen. And then he was gone, almost running out of the pond. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Harry said to his retreating back, following him back to the castle. “I shouldn’t have done that, Draco.”

The use of his name had Draco swinging around, his eyes furious. Glaring at Harry so hard he stopped moving, stopped trying to apologize. With a huff, Draco went into the castle, leaving Harry outside, dripping and starting to shiver. 

It was a good five minutes before the door opened, and a dry Draco waved Harry to step forward. He waved his wand, his wrist binding and scorgify spells running over Harry so fast they left him gasping. “Get downstairs. Now.” His tone was icy. Haughty. 

Harry wanted to apologize, to somehow explain, but knew it was futile. Better to wait until later, when they had both settled down a bit. He went down to his cell, Draco trailing behind him, calling himself ten types of fool. Any trust he had built was gone with that one stupid act. 

Draco locked him in and left without a word. It wasn’t until he was fully upstairs that Harry realized he still had the binding around his wrists. Had that been intentional?

...

It was hard to tell time in the dungeon, but Harry was famished by the time Draco finally arrived with the supper meal. It was at least a couple hours late. 

But Harry didn’t complain as Draco slid the tray under his door, his hunger forgotten as his feelings about what happened earlier took over. 

“Draco, please, please,” Harry said softly, standing up from the bed and walking slowly towards him. “Can we talk?”

The other man was still wearing his untouchable, icy expression, his eyes dull when they met Harry’s. “What is there to discuss?”

Harry was almost up against the bars now, just wanting Draco to be able to see his face, his eyes, and to know he was sincerely sorry. “I want to say sorry for what happened earlier. I read the signals wrong. I’m an idiot. I never should have-“

“So, you aren’t sorry for kissing me, you are just sorry for kissing me if I didn’t want it?” Draco asked, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. 

Nodding, Harry was just glad Draco was talking to him. “We have been laughing together, having fun. I am just feeling more drawn to you lately. Surely you notice how your magic affects me every time.”

Draco looked confused. “My magic,” he repeated. 

“It’s never felt like that with anyone else. You do a scorgify spell, and it sends sparks along my skin,” Harry said, trying to make a gesture. His bound hands didn’t help in that. 

“Oh shit,” Draco said, looking at his hands, “I forgot to unbind you.”

Harry shook his head. “It’s OK. With everything that happened, it’s, um, understandable.”

“Let’s get it off you now,” Draco said, and waved Harry forward. 

Strange how something he had done many times seemed so much different this time. Harry stepped right up to the bars, and put his hands through them. He rested his face against the cold metal, closing his eyes and holding his breath. He could feel Draco watching him closely. 

Draco murmured the simple spell, and Harry felt that surge of power along his skin, seeming even more intense this time. He gasped, closing his eyes tight, the sensation seeming to zing right through his body. 

And then he felt something else. Draco’s lips against his, and his hand going past the bars to dig into his hair. It was hard and passionate right from the start, way more intense than any kisses he’d had before. 

Harry felt it in his knees, and he grabbed for support, his hands ending up on Draco’s hips. He tugged him closer, digging his hands in, sinking into the sensations.

They were pressed together, body against body, just the bars between them. Harry shifted and pressed against Draco, just wanting more, wanting to be closer. 

Draco broke off the kiss, panting, but not moving away. Harry’s hands went under his jumper, touching the warm, bare skin near his waistband. Draco let out a small moan that went right through Harry, and went back to kissing him, his tongue pushing into his mouth. 

Harry’s hands traced along the top of Draco’s waistband, stopping at his belt buckle. This was crazy. This was too much. But he just wanted more. And Draco was not moving away. His hand moved downwards, tracing along his fly, feeling the hardness beneath the fabric. Tracing it. 

Draco pulled away then, taking a step back. He was breathing hard, his face flushed, his eyes dark. Harry was sure he looked pretty much the same. Destroyed.

Turning, Draco was soon gone. Harry didn’t blame him. A lot had happened so fast. He sunk in the bed, his mind whirling, heart still pounding.

...

-A/N: Boys being a bit naughty... 


	7. Chapter 7

It was a long night. Harry was up for most of it, reliving every delicious second, usually with his hand under the covers. The rest of the time, he wondered what this could mean. 

OK, they liked each other. Had interesting conversations and enjoyed doing things together. Harry loved Draco’s competitiveness and his intelligence, his sharp tongue and quick wit. 

OK, they were intensely attracted to each other. All night, Harry could only think of kissing and touching him everywhere. Making him pant, shudder and moan. And the thought of Draco’s long, pale hand running over his skin...

But there was a world outside the high hedge of this castle, and Harry had to use any means to return to it. The sooner the better. The longer he stayed, the deeper they would both get pulled into this. This, this... whatever it was. Harry knew he could easily lose himself in it. Dive deep and not come up for air for a year or two. 

Draco had some feelings too, it was obvious. Were they strong enough to let Harry go? 

Harry sighed. He strongly doubted it. Draco had been a loyal son his whole life. If he hadn’t split from his family and Voldemort over his task to kill Dumbledor last year, he wouldn’t do it for a few (incredible, amazing) kisses. And Harry couldn’t stay here for weeks, waiting for those feelings to develop, never knowing if they would get there. 

That left only one choice. One horrible, awful choice. 

...

He awoke from a light nap to a strange sound. The cell door unlocked and swung open, but Draco wasn’t there. 

Confused but curious, Harry slowly left the cell and went to the bottom of the stairs. The thick door at the top was open too. 

Harry’s heart beat faster. Was this it? Draco setting him free? Acting like the doors were left unlocked somehow? Not taking too active a part in his escape? 

He moved up the stairs, quickly but cautiously. What would he discover at the top? Lucius? 

Instead, there was a dining room table covered with a dozen different foods. Pancakes, strawberries, whip cream, sausages, bacon and eggs. 

He sensed a presence beside him. Draco, a tentative smile on his face. “I wanted to do something special...,” he said, a flicker of self-doubt coming across his face. 

Harry grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “It’s incredible. Looks delicious,” he said, but his eyes were going down to Draco’s lips again. 

Draco pushed Harry against the wall, kissing him deeply, nothing held back. Harry groaned, his arms going around Draco and hugging him close. Finally. It felt so good. So right. 

A minute or two later, Draco was pushing him on to a sofa and climbing over him. “Brunch can wait. Stasis charm...”

Harry nodded. “Yes, this first. Need you so bad,” he moaned, kissing down his neck. “But the house elves?”

“I sent them to the store. Told them to come back in two hours,” Draco said, his leg slotting in between Harry’s. 

“Perfect,” Harry said, rolling Draco on to his back. He did a slow grind against Draco, making them both pant. Grabbing Draco’s wrists, he pinned them back against the sofa as he gave him a deep, dirty kiss. 

But under one hand, he felt something hard. Draco’s wand, tucked up his sleeve like most witches and wizards did. Harry didn’t let himself think for even a second. 

Grabbing the wand, he pulled it out fast and pointed it at Draco, his stomach sinking like a stone, his hand trembling a bit. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Draco froze underneath him, his eyes wide, his face going pale. “You aren’t...,” he stammered, barely getting the words out, “you wouldn’t...”

Harry shook his head. “I have to.” Looking away from those beautiful eyes before he changed his mind, he shouted out firmly _“Accio_ wands!”

Several other wands shot towards him, and he caught them with his natural seeker skill. All the wands from the skirmish at Malfoy Manor. He got off Draco, standing with shaking legs. 

Draco’s expression had turned to hard fury. Deep hatred. His eyes seemed to glow with it. 

_“Immobilus,”_ Harry said softly, and it felt like a piece of his heart was dying as the magical bonds went around Draco, even covering his mouth. Harry pulled a blanket over his still body, tucking it around his neck, wanting to give him some comfort. 

“They will be back soon and find you,” Harry said softly, unable to meet Draco’s accusing eyes again. He wanted to say more, but what could he say? 

In the dining room, he made the food disappear, not wanting Draco to have to face it later. A romantic gesture that Harry had callously used against him.

Luckily, the door let him exit the castle, much to his relief. Now for the final step. 

He apparated to a forest Hermione had taken them to last fall. It had trees close together, lots of places to hide. He made a pile of leaves, put up some protective wards, and waited. If there was anyone following him, they would do it within the first day. He didn’t want to lead them to anyone on his side. 

He felt numb, the look on Draco’s face constantly flashing through his mind. Pure betrayal. He could hardly sleep, curled up on the dry leaves, half expecting to be discovered at any moment. 

He could only hope in time Draco would come to understand his actions. 

The next morning, he apparated a few different places before going to Shell Cottage. 

...

_**-One Month Later-** _

Harry walked around the Room of Requirement, the buzzing hiss of the horcrux in his ears, in his scar. He could feel that it was close. 

Pure instinct lead him to a plain wooden box. The diadem was there, a large blue gemstone making up the body of the Ravenclaw eagle. 

“Well, well,” Draco said, coming around a pile of furniture with Goyle and Blaise, all with their wands drawn. “What brings you here, Potter?”

Leaving the diadem in its box, Harry stepped away to face them, heart pounding. His eyes drank in the sight of Draco. He was wearing his black suit, looking much the same as he had a month ago. But his face was a bit thinner, his skin paler, and his eyes harder than Harry had ever seen them.

“I could ask you the same,” Harry said, wanting to pull out his wand. He was probably better in a duel than Blaise and Goyle. Surely there was a way to get out of this without hurting anyone. 

Draco’s hand never wavered. “You have something of mine. I want it back.”

Harry’s mind was a blank for a few seconds. _Oh, his wand._ “What’s wrong with the one you have?” 

“It’s my mother’s. It’s powerful, but not the same,” Draco said. “Doesn’t quite understand me. Know what I mean?”

Harry completely got that. There were so many unasked questions between them. He started with the main one. The one that still stuck in his mind all these weeks later, when he had gone over things again and again. “Why didn’t you tell her? Bellatrix.”

Draco just glared at him. Blaise and Goyle had no idea what he was talking about. 

Harry wanted to scream in frustration. “You knew it was me. You didn’t say anything.” 

But Draco still said nothing, his cold, dead stare speaking for him. 

And that, more than anything, made Harry want to cry. He had missed Draco so much, felt awful about what he had done, and Draco wanted nothing to do with him except get his stupid wand back. 

Goyle shifted beside him, not liking the lack of action. “Come on, Draco. Don’t be a prat. Do him.”

Still Draco held Harry’s eyes. Seeing who would look away first. Could Harry look him in the eye, hold his gaze, after what he had done? Draco seemed to be daring him to do so. 

Harry desperately wanted to look away. Sink to his knees, beg Draco for forgiveness. Kiss him, hug him, make sure he was OK. But his duty came first. Before everyone and everything. 

Draco seemed to sense his friends shifting, reacting to the tension between Harry and Draco. “Easy,” he crooned, keeping them from doing something stupid. 

But then Hermione and Ron appeared, and it was chaos. Wands went flying, Ron was hollering and chasing after the Slytherins, as Hermione and Harry searched for the diadem. Just as they found it, Ron came running back, screaming in fear. Fiendfyre chased after him almost like a sentient being, and they all ran for their lives. 

Luckily, they came across some Quidditch brooms and started flying out of the room. Harry heard a scream, and saw Goyle falling from a high stack of furniture into the fire. It was awful. 

“We have to go back for them,” Harry shouted at Hermione and Ron, turning his broomstick around. He had said ‘them’ but there was only one man he headed straight for. 

Draco was perched on the top of a huge pile of furniture, looking around in desperation and coughing from the smoke. His skin was shiny with sweat from the heat of the fire climbing all around him. 

But through all that, he saw Harry coming towards him, his sharp eyes finding him and holding him. He stuck him arms out, getting ready to grab hold of anything. 

Harry had to swing past him twice before Draco swung up behind him on the broomstick, clutching Harry’s waist firmly. Pure relief shot through Harry at the close contact and he headed right to the exit. They all had to make it. 

He had to decline sharply to get through the doorway, and the weight shift made them lose their balance, crashing to the stone floor in a pile, the broomstick skittering away. Stunned and breathless, Harry tried to grab hold of Draco. 

But the man pushed him away with a hard shove, his face twisted into a sneer of distaste, and scrambled to his feet, racing away. 

Ron and Hermione tossed him a basilisk fang, and Harry stabbed it into the diadem. They tossed it back into the burning Room of Requirement, hearing the screams from that part of Voldemort’s soul scream as it died. 

...

-A/N: Just one chapter left! Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

_**-Five Months Later-** _

“Well, I think that is all the questions I have for you, Mr. Malfoy,” the witch said as she stood up, holding out her hand. 

Draco stood and shook it. “Thank you for the interview, Ms. Redd. I hope to get an owl from you soon.”

Stepping out of the office, Draco smiled at the wizard at the reception desk and walked out of the building as quickly as he could. It was hard to control the anger bubbling up beneath his polite facade. 

Pulling at his wand, he apparated to the Ministry of Magic. Pretty soon, he was getting off the elevator for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He marched in, and glared down at first wizard he saw. “Get me Auror Potter. Now!” The young man jumped, and then scrambled into the offices. 

Standing in the department’s lobby, he glared at anyone who came by, making most of them scuttle out of sight. 

After at least ten minutes, Harry Potter finally strolled out, his scarlet uniform robes marked with mud and some burn marks. “Oh, it’s you. This is a nice surprise, Draco.”

“Shove it, Potter. Do you want me to yell at you here, or should we go somewhere more private?” Draco hissed, looming over Harry. 

Harry’s welcoming smile dimmed, and he quickly glanced around. He looked as guilty as four year sitting beside an empty cookie jar. Covered in cookie crumbs. “Um, is Grimmald Place OK?”

Draco gave a curt nod and linked his arm over Harry’s. Within a few seconds, they were standing in a shabby living room. 

Harry unbuckled his uniform, slipping off the thick red robe and hanging it on a hook on the wall. The snug black long sleeve t-shirt and slim fit trousers he had worn beneath were a bit dusty. He ran a hand through his unruly hair. “I’m going to make some coffee. Want one?”

“No! I don’t want fucking coffee!” Draco snapped.

Trying not to smirk, Harry gave him a half smile. “OK, OK. How about tea?”

Draco’s skin flushed even more with anger, and he glared at Harry. 

With a sigh, Harry moved over to the sofa and sat down. “I guess we can have some later. Something on your mind, Malfoy?”

With a slight growl, Draco started pacing back and forth over the worn carpet in front of Harry. “I just came from an interview.”

“Oh?” Harry said, tipping his face up with a pleasant smile. “How did it go?”

“Good,” Draco said, stopping right in front of Harry to glare down at him. “Far too good. Suspiciously good.”

“How can an interview be suspiciously good?” Harry asked mildly. 

Draco let out a huff of frustration and started pacing again. “She just seemed amazed at everything I did, took lots of notes, and smiled at me. A lot.”

“Maybe she found you attractive,” Harry said, the half smile threatening to come back. 

That comment got him another glare. “People don’t treat me like that, Potter.”

“I’m sure many people find you attractive,” Harry quipped. 

“Not that!” Draco snapped. He waved his hands around, clearly still incensed. “They don’t treat me nicely.”

Harry shrugged. “How do they treat you?”

“Like an ex-Deatheater! A traitor!”

“Well, that’s hardly fair. You were exonerated at the trial, just like your mother,” Harry said calmly. 

“Thanks to you,” Draco said, pointing a long finger at Harry. “You just had to save me, didn’t you? Just like in the Room of Requirement!”

“You would have preferred I left you to the Fiendfyre?” Harry asked, raising one brow. 

“No, of course not,” Draco said, stopping and slumping down on the edge of an easy chair. “But it’s enough, Potter. You saved me then, you saved me at the trial, and now you are trying to get me a job?”

Harry tried his best to look innocent, but knew his face was giving him away. “OK, fine, I vouched for you with Olivia Redd. But you would be great in that job.”

“The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One, asks for a favour, and she is just delighted to overlook my shady past?” Draco sneered, running his hands through his hair, leaving it in complete disarray. 

Harry sighed. “Well, might as well put my notoriety to some good use. Would you just take the job, Draco?”

Draco sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t need your pity.”

“You know it’s not that,” Harry said, meeting his icy blue-grey eyes. 

“If it’s not pity, it must be guilt. For what you did,” Draco said, his gaze unwavering. 

Harry broke the eye contact first, looking down. “I had to do it. You know I had no choice.”

Draco scoffed. “If you believed that, why would you be doing all these favours for me now?”

“Decency?” Harry shot back, a bit of anger creeping in now. “I could hardly live with myself if we left anyone to die in that fire.”

“And the trial?”

Harry shrugged a shoulder. “I told the truth. I wanted the trials to be fair, not vindictive.”

“Fine, fine. So, it was just setting up this job that you did out of guilt, or pity, or some combination of the two,” Draco said, pinning Harry again with his gaze. His anger had calmed down, but it was still there, ready to flare up at the slightest provocation. 

“It’s not pity,” Harry said after a long pause. “But it not entirely out of guilt either, Draco.”

Draco just waited, knowing Harry had more to say. This confrontation had been a long time coming. It was time to lay all the cards on the table. 

Harry swallowed hard, clearly feeling uncomfortable. A bit nervous. “Um, at the castle, what happened... um, between us...”

“You mean when you pretended you liked me to take advantage of me? Left me tied up while you escaped? Do you know how embarrassing it was to be found like that by the house elves? How awful it was to admit what happened to my father?” The anger was back, making his eyes almost glow. 

“You told your father that we...” Harry said, clearly surprised.

Draco stood up, walked a few steps and paused, facing away. “No, of course not. I swore the house elves to secrecy and just told him you got away. He was furious.”

Harry could see how stiffly Draco was holding his shoulders and could only imagine how horrible it had been. “I can’t say that I’m sorry I got away, Draco. You know I would have been killed if I stayed. If there had been a way I could have done it without hurting you, I would have.”

Draco just stayed turned away, but his shoulders seemed to slump a little. “Fine. It’s all over and done with, OK? Let’s leave it all in the past and try to forget it. No more trying to help me, Potter. Just leave me alone.”

Harry stood, and slowly walked closer to Draco. His heart was pounding in his chest, but he had to do this. He stopped behind Draco, and laid a hand on his shoulder lightly. 

Draco jumped slightly at his touch, his breath catching, but after a moment he seemed to calm down. He turned towards Harry, his eyes downcast. 

“I wasn’t acting, Draco. At the castle,” Harry said, fumbling for the right words. “We were spending all that time together, and you were being fairly kind to me...”

Draco scoffed. “You faked it. Admit it.”

Reaching out, Harry tipped Draco’s chin up so their eyes met. “I did work at getting you to trust me, hoping it would relax your guard and I could find a way to escape. But when we kissed, that wasn’t part of the plan.”

Draco still had a mixture of emotions showing on his face. Anger, resistance, doubt. But his eyes did flick downwards. Was he remembering those kisses? Did he think about them as often as Harry did?

Gathering his Gryffindor courage, Harry leaned in to give him a light kiss. And when Draco didn’t pull away, pushed his hand into his hair and kissed him properly. The way he’d been wanting to for months. 

“I didn’t fake it, Draco,” Harry said softly, their lips barely parted. “I wanted you.”

“Past tense?” Draco asked, trying to say it jokingly, but his eyes were watching Harry closely. He cared about the answer. 

Harry knew he just had to honest. “I still want you. So, so much.”

Draco pushed him, hard, and Harry fell on to the sofa. Immediately, Draco crawled over him, holding him down and kissing him intensely. Harry could hardly catch his breath, but he didn’t really care. This would be a good way to die. 

Within a few minutes, they were both breathing heavy, clothing a mess from wandering hands, and grinding against each other shamelessly. 

“Let’s go to the bedroom,” Draco groaned, as Harry kissed down his neck. 

Harry shook his head, panting. “No, we can’t. We should go out, like for a nice dinner.”

“What? Right now?” Draco pulled back to stare down at Harry. 

Grinning, Harry shook his head again. “Well, no, but before we, um...”

Draco sighed, and sat up, running his hand through his hair. “What are you trying to say, Potter?”

Harry sat up, right beside Draco, and reached over to take his hand. “That this is amazing, more than I dared to hope for, but, um, I’m actually not that experienced. I’ve been concentrating on fighting a crazy dark wizard for the last few years.”

“So you have never...? Or just never with a guy?” 

“Never done much of anything. Have you?”

Draco shook his head, his fair skin flushing slightly. 

Harry let out a breath, and gave Draco’s hand a squeeze. “I think we both deserve to have it be special. Let’s take it slow. Date.”

“Date,” Draco repeated, his expression a mix of frustration and confusion. 

Unable to stop the smile spreading across his face, Harry stole a quick kiss. “Go out in public together, as a couple. Hold hands. Talk about everything. Go to restaurants or Quidditch matches, or drinking with our friends.” 

“The Chosen One and the Deatheater,” Draco groaned. “I can already see the headlines in the paper. 

Harry hugged him tight, loving the feel of his arms around Draco’s slim body. “We have been caught up in things beyond our control for half our lives. I am not giving up another day to all that. I’m just want to be an eighteen year old wizard, working a normal job, and dating a guy I like.” 

Eventually, Draco hugged him back, relaxing against Harry. “I want that too.” 

Pulling back, Harry met Draco’s gaze steadily. “Will you take the job? I know I pulled some strings to get you in the door but I think the job will suit you. I won’t interfere again. How you do in the job is entirely up to you. Olivia won’t keep you around if you’re shite at it.” 

Draco sighed, looking up towards the ceiling, considering it. “The idea of designing healing potions is appealing. She seems very experienced.” 

“Yes, like an apprenticeship,” Harry said, letting his cheek rest against Draco’s shoulder. “I am sorry for what I did to escape, Draco. But I can’t let things get more, um, physical between us until I know you forgive me.”

“I forgive you,” Draco said, his eyes dropping to Harry’s mouth.

Tempted, Harry had to pull away. “No, not until you can call me by my first name and I know you are happier.” He stood up, tugging Draco along with him.

At the door, he pushed Draco against the wall and kissed him hard, deeply. Loving the way he returned the kiss, hungry and eager. Their breathing was fast, hearts pounding, by the time Harry pulled back. 

“Pick a restaurant you want to try. Owl me the time and date,” Harry said, pushing Draco out the door before he gave into temptation and took him up to his bedroom. 

He had started a seduction at the castle. But both of them had been caught up in it. Captivated. He wanted to continue it now, let them both get to know each other. Date, like a normal couple. He didn’t want to rush this, finally having the time to give a deeper relationship a chance. 

Draco gave him an eye roll, but he was also smiling. “Fine. Goodbye, Potter.” 

“Goodbye, Draco.”

...

-A/N: That’s it! Thanks for reading! It has been fun writing again after a long dry spell, so thank you for supporting me. 

-I’m considering writing a sequel, following as Draco & Harry date and fumble to figure things out. Let me know if you’d be interested. :)


End file.
